Close Call
by LM Simpson
Summary: Flintheart/Scrooge oneshot. Just what is Flintheart doing to Unca Scrooge?


**Title: **Close Call

**Author: **LM Simpson (Kady the Red Panda)

**Pairing(s): **Flintheart/Scrooge

**Rating: **T

**Warning(s): **Slash, adult situations, crude humor/Kady the Red Panda being a pervert

**Disclaimer: **Disney hasn't killed me yet, but you'd never know…

**Other tidbits: **I still like Flintheart/Scrooge. Always have, since I was a little kid and never heard the word "gay" in my life. Oh, and happy Gay Pride Month, y'all!

0000

"Hey, Dewey," Huey asked, "How many days are left?" He pointed to the calendar on the other side of the room.

"Why do _I_ have to check it?" Dewey asked.

"_You're _closest to it!" His lounging red clad brother replied.

Louie, reading a comic book in his bunk bed, unconsciously nodded.

Dewey groaned as he got out of his desk chair. Slamming a finger against the calendar date, he calculated the amount of days in his head. "Unca Donald's coming home in… three days."

"_Three days_?" Huey said. "That's sooo long from now!" He groaned as he slammed himself against his bed.

Louie closed his comic book and tossed it to the ground. "I'm bored! Wanna see if Unca Scrooge is free?"

"Sure, why not?" Huey said.

Huey and Louie hopped down their bunk beds, whereas Dewey got back up from his chair.

"I hope this was a good idea," Dewey said as the trio left their bedroom. "I was just about to draw something…"

The boys tiptoed down the hall towards the study. The mansion was quiet, as if they were the only humans in the entire abode. Everyone else was probably either napping or working.

"Aw, man!" Huey said when they arrived at the study's closed door. They could hear muffled words between Scrooge and another man. "'Looks like Unca Scrooge is busy!"

"Wait! We forgot!" Louie said, smacking his head. "Unca Scrooge was saying something earlier today at breakfast about having someone over this morning…"

"Yeah, you're right! Who was it again?"

The boys leaned against the door. Both voices possessed a Scottish accent. One was very familiar—it was definitely Scrooge's… But so was the other.

The boys leaned back and gasped.

"Is that who I think it is?" A wide-eyed Huey asked in a whisper.

"So I'm not the only one that heard Flintheart Glomgold in there?" Dewey said.

"But why would Unca Scrooge let his archrival come over?" Louie said.

The muffled words had since turned into groans and moans.

"What's going on in there?" Louie asked.

"Maybe Flintheart is doing something to Unca Scrooge…" Huey gasped. "Maybe he's _hurting_ him!"

The boys raced their arms to the doorknob; Dewey, being in the middle, won. He struggled to open the door. It would not open.

"The door's locked!" He propped a foot against the door and grunted as he pulled on it. "It! Won't! Budge!" He inhaled deeply when his foot returned to the carpet.

Scrooge was moaning louder and louder inside the study. He appeared to be calling Flintheart's name too.

"'Looks like we're gonna need to ram it open!" Huey said.

"But there's no busts in this hall!" Louie cried.

"Then let's ram _ourselves_ against the door! Let's get against the wall, men!"

The boys sat so far against the wall their backs squeezed. Huey called the countdown:

"One… Two… Three!"

The boys charged. Before they reached the door, it was opened… By Uncle Scrooge. He appeared disheveled even before the boys collided onto him.

"Boys!" He said, annoyed and stinking of an odd odor the boys never smelled before, like sweat and something else. "Didn't I tell you I had company coming this morning?"

The boys blabbered simultaneously. "B-b-but…"

"But _what?_"

"But your 'company' is _Flintheart Glomgold_!" Huey yelled.

"We heard groaning outside, Unca Scrooge," Dewey said. "We thought he was hurting you!"

"…Wasn't he?" The green garbed boy asked.

"Absolutely not!" Scrooge said. "You know that if he was hurting me I would beat the feathers off of him! We've been trying to make a truce all morning. So far we haven't made an agreement.

"I'll leave my study when he has left. Until then, don't come in! If something has happened, speak to Duckworth or Missus Beakly!"

Scrooge's face and tone revealed his current mood. The boys nodded furiously. "Yes, Unca Scrooge!" All three said before scurrying back to their bedroom.

Scrooge sighed in relief as he closed the still locked door. "Well, that was close!"

Flintheart spat something into Scrooge's wastebasket. "Ugh, I think I'm going to need to gargle a whole bottle of mouthwash to get this taste out of my mouth…"

"I don't feel that bad for you!" Scrooge said as he adjusted his coat, fluffed his face feathers. "You could have spat it out while I was talking with the boys. The lads apparently heard us outside…"

"I don't feel that bad for you regarding _that_! I asked you if you wanted to meet at a hotel room and you turned me down!"

"It costs money for a hotel room! And politicians and high end prostitutes use them!"

Scrooge moved closer to Flintheart, propped his hands onto the other man's shoulders. "Besides, I don't know how to explain to Goldie how I simultaneously love a woman _and _a man…"

The two men kissed once before Scrooge pulled away. "Anyway, it was a good thing that I remembered to lock the door this time. I guess it's too risky to meet in my mansion from now on…"

"Would you like to meet at mine, then?" Flintheart offered. "We'll even have dinner first!"

"Why, sure! I was about to ask that! How does tomorrow at seven sound?"

"Hmm… Make that tomorrow at six and I'll say yes."

"Deal!" The two ducks shook hands.

"Don't be late, Scroogey!" Flintheart tipped his hat and left.


End file.
